He looked at Annabel, whose face was buried in her hands— he looked back at Anna, who was regarding him with an easy composure which secretly irritated him. dear. He had invited himself to dine with her merely to watch her table manners. \" His tone was weak and conciliatory. ” He came and stood on the hearthrug close to her. “You call yourself an artist— but you have no temperament. She recalled that day of the typhoon and the sloop crashing on the outer reefs. Yet she never once thought of changing it. "So endeth the first lesson," he said.
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